Miscellaneous  9cems 


DEDICATED 


our  own  heroic  ones  with  us 

here  and  to  the  memory  of 

our  fallen  heroes  "over 

there,"  also  to  every 

loyal  worker  for 

the  cause  of 

right, 

justice 

and 

freedom. 


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J 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  Illinois  Urbana-Champaign 


http://www.archive.org/details/miscellaneouspoeOOdayl 


D3: 


il.  H 


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INTRODUCTION. 


ANY  years  have  elapsed 
since  I  began  writing,  prin- 
cipally for  my  own  gratifi- 
cation. Repeatedly  friends 
have  urged  me  to  have  my  verses  pub- 
lished in  "Gift  Book"  form.  Until  the 
present,  I  have  never  felt  quite  equal 
to  the  undertaking.  Now,  in  view  of 
the  great  cataclysm  of  suffering,  sor- 
row and  woe  incident  to  war's  devasta- 
tion, I  have  decided  that  the  opportune 
time  has  arrived  to  go  forward  with  my 
work  and  send  the  little  book  forth  on 
its  mission,  with  words  of  comfort  and 
good  cheer,  trusting  that  it  will  be  re- 
ceived with  the  same  spirit  in  which  it 
is  offered;  also  that  criticisms  will  be 
tempered  with  this  thought,  "she  halh 
done  what  she  could." 

AUTHOR. 


God  is  our  life;  in  Him  we  live,  move  and  have  our  being. 


LOVE'S     MESSAGE. 


Good  cheer  to  the  hearts  that  are  breaking, 
A  message  to  the  souls  that  are  sad; 
To  the  Christ  love  you  are  fully  awaking, 
Rejoice,  be  thankful  and  glad. 

The  cross  has  been  heavy  to  carry, 
Your  own  strength  exhausted  and  gone; 
Divine  love  has  come  forever  to  tarry, 
Your  heart  song  is  of  victory  won. 


The   thorns   have   pierced   you   severely. 
Gall  pressed  to  your  lips  as  a  drink; 
The  sacrifice  has  cost  you  most  dearly, 
But  Christ  from  that  cup  did  not  shrink. 

The   furnace   has    been    seven-fold   heated, 

You  felt  you  were  there  all  alone; 

Divine   love  and   strength  were   ten-fold   repeated, 

Faith  and   hope  now  blend   in  each  tone. 

Just  place   your  hand   in  the   Father's, 
And  sing:,  if  you  can — as  you  go; 
God's  strength  all  around  you  now  gathers, 
Grace  and  love  are  His  to  bestow. 


(0 ■!       'X 


Nothing  can  be  done  without  a  first  idea. 


ma 


BEAR  EACH  OTHER'S  BURDENS. 

Do  we  bear  each  other's  burdens? 

Do  we  share   each   other's   pain? 
Do   wo   soothe   the    spirit's   anguish, 

And   from   bitterness   refrain? 
Christ   divine   with   love   eternal, 

Ever   perfect    without    flaw; 
Help   each   other  bear   life's   burdens, 

"This,"  he   said,  "fulfills   my   law." 

If   a   heart   in   woe   is    shrouded, 

Or  a  soul  is  sad  with  grief; 
Do  we  gently  bear  the  burden? 

Do  we  try  to  give  relief? 
Or  do  cares,  which  are  mere  trifles, 

Occupy    each    heart    and    mind, 
Till   we  cease  to  bear  the   burdens 

Which  in  life  we'll   ever  find? 

If   we   bear   each   other's    burdens, 

We   fulfill   Christ's   law   of   love; 
Blending   spirits   in   sweet  union 

For  the  final   home  above. 
If  charity   and   lovingkindness 

Guide  in  every  word  and  deed; 
We   will    never   shrink    from   burdens , 

If  to  bear  them   there   is   need. 

If   we   understood    the    heartaches, 

Caused   by   efforts    all    in   vain; 
Spirits    crushed    by    disappointments, 

Every   hope   among   the   slain; 
Would  charity,  with  kindly  mantle, 

Cover   o'er   both   grief   and   sin? 
Should  we  help  where  now  we  hinder? 

Should  we  strive  the  soul  to  win? 


\ 


Is  death  aught  more  than  sleep? 


mi  p 


GOD'S   WONDERFUL   HAND. 


Why  do  our  dear  ones  go  bravely  forth  to  battle  for  life? 
They  shrink  not  nor  falter  midst  war's  carnage  and  strife, 
They  march  forth  triumphant  at  their  leader's  command; 
In  that  they  discern   God's  wonderful  hand. 

Whence   this   heroic   spirit  and   veteran   dash? 
Oblivious  to  danger — with  the  foe  they  are  eager  to  clash. 
They   promptly   respond   to   every   demand, 
As    they    recognize    quickly    God's    wonderful    hand. 

We  give  up   our  loved   ones  to  be   ruthlessly   slain, 
That  the  innocent  no  longer  suffer  under  tyrannical  reign. 
By  the   side  of  our  brave   ones  we   heroically   stand, 
While  we  trust  to  the  guidance  of  God's  wonderful  hand. 

No  one   has   been   called   to   this   conflict   entirely   alone; 
As  God's  son  on  the  cross,  the  world's  sins  to  atone. 
Christ's  life  was  restored  that  we  may  now  understand, 
That  all  is  made  possible  through  God's  wonderful  hand. 


^:- 


pm 


Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  man. 


WHAT  IS  SPIRIT? 


Soul,  spirit  or  life — why  care  for  the  name. 
Intangible   something — to  sense   'tis  the   same. 
Unreal — yet  how  true  to  impulse   and   heart. 
Soul,  spirit  or  life — which  is  the  real  part? 

Unseen  is  the  spirit — the  soul,  or  the  life. 
Eveiy  deed  we  perform,  with  spirit  is  rife. 
Invisible,    yet    guiding,    wherever   we    go. 
Is  it  soul,  life  or  spirit?       To  see   is  to  know. 


Is  it  influence  only?       Neither  spirit  nor  soul 

Are   tangible    objects — hence   past   our   control; 

While  they  weave  round  and  o'er  us  webs  of  real  worth, 

As  thought,  soul  and  spirit  await  us  at  birth. 

With  our  first  breath  of  life  the  spirit  is   given. 
To  exist  without  soul,  would  be  false  to  Heaven. 
Thus  spirit  and  soul  ever  mingle  with  life. 
Thought,  mind  and  soul  with  spirit  are  rife. 


The  wisest  philosopher  can  never  define 
Life,  soul  and  spirit  and  there  draw  the  line. 
Allied  to  each  other,  through  channels  unseen; 
Who  can  sever  the   cords,  or  weave   threads   between? 


Resurrection  is  the  waking  to  eternal  life. 


SPIRITUAL  SLEEP. 


Close  not  the  spiritual  eyes  to  the  light, 
By  faith  we  must  walk,  instead  of  by  sight. 
May  this   prayer  from  the   heart   continually   rise: 
Enlighten,   dear   Lord,   our  spiritual   eyes, 
That  we  sleep  not  the  sleep  of  spiritual  death, 
Nor  forget  the  fount  from  which  we  draw  breath; 
But  gird  up  our  loins,  the  race  to  renew, 
Though  damp  be  our  locks  from  night's  falling  dew. 

Won'  are  the  sandals — the  feet,  too,  are  weary — 
Prolonged   is   the   journey,   the   way  often   dreary. 
If  our  shield  is  of  faith,  and  with  hope  we  are  shod, 
We'll  not  sleep  by  the  way  which  others  have  trod. 
Mists  often  gather  like  a  veil  o'er  the  sight, 
Spirit  grows  drowsy,  with  shadows  of  night. 
Enlighten  our  eyes,  that  we  sleep  not  death's  sleep, 
But  arise  while  'tis  day,  to  sow,  garner  or  reap. 

May  the  eyes  of  the  soul  be  fixed  on  the  prize, 
While  onward  we  move,  and  upward  we  rise. 
Thought   link   with   thought,   from   sphere   unto   sphere, 
As  a  golden  chain,  binding   the  there  to  the  here. 
When   the   silver  cord   loosens,   this   life   then   is    o'er, 
And  our  spirit  eyes  open  on  that  evergreen  shore; 
With   the    seraphim   choir   of   that   angelic    host, 
We'll   praise   Father,   Son   and   Holy  Ghost. 


Success  usually  depends  on  more  than  one  trial. 


OUR  BRAVE  WOMEN, 


Here's  an  appeal  to  true  womanhood  of  every  nation; 
It  comes  through  travail  and  pain  of  war's  desolation. 
Shrink  not,  nor  falter  in  the  world's  conflict  and  strife; 
Be  you  mother  or  sister,  sweetheart  or  wife. 

This  answer  comes  quickly  from  every  land,  every  nation, 
For  courage  and  wisdom — not  for  world's  approbation; 
We  will  garner  our  strength,  all  deep  streams  to  ford, 
For  final   results,  we   must   trust   in   the   Lord. 

Now   woman    steps    forward,    showing    no    agitation; 
She  proclaims  freedom  and  justice  for  every  known  nation; 
Conserving  her  forces,  not  a  tear  dims  her  eye; 
We  are  ready  for  action,  to  do  or  to  die. 


i 


Today  we  clasp  hands  with  all  women  of  whatever  nation, 

With    true    hearted    welcome,    without    hesitation. 

All   are    equipped   with   courage    and    strength    to    heed 

duty's  call, 
"For  united  we   stand,  but   divided   we   fall." 


13 


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The  inner  side  of  every  cloud  is  always  bright  and  shining. 


=mmm 


THE   CALL   TO   ARMS. 


The  cry  "to  arms"  that  came,  my  boys, 
And    swept   from    sea   to    sea; 

The   call   was   for  the   brave   of   heart; 
Was   that   call   to   you   and   me? 

We   girded   strong  for   battle, 
Although   we   knew   full   well 

We'd    be    but    living    targets 
For   German    shot   and    shell. 

The    cry    of   suffering    children 

And    women    in    distress, 
Filled    every    heart   with    courage, 

Their    sufferings    to    redress. 


Our   lives   were    in   the   balance, 
'Gainst    crimes   of   darkest   hue; 

While    thoughts    of    our    own    loved    ones 
Did   each  heart  with   strength   imbue. 

And   when   the   time   for   action   came. 

This    banished    fear    and    pains. 
We   will    strike    a   blow   for   freedom, 

And   break   a   tyrant's    chains. 


15 


gpfe 


Be  sure  you're  right,  then  never  take  a  back  seat. 


You   bravely   marched   forth,   my   boys, 

Before    the    cannon's    roar; 
With    courage    for    your   watchword, 

Like   the   brave   in  days   of  yore. 

You   marched   forth   as   brave   young   soldiers, 
With  hearts   and   nerves   of  steel; 

Remembering  every  cry  for  help; 
To  you   came   their  appeal. 

March  on!       You're  like  an  avalanche 

Of   strength   and   manly   pride. 
Be    brave    and    never   falter, 

Whatever   may    betide. 

Our  cause   is   for   a   people, 

By   crime   and    wrong    oppressed; 

They  cry  to  you  for  pity, 

That    their   wrongs    may   be    redressed. 

Their   cause    is    just    and    merciful, 

Their   sorrows    you   must   share. 
Like   true   and   valient   soldiers, 

All    hardships    strive    to   bear. 

And    when    the    war    is    over, 

And   our  cause   is  nobly  won; 
May   laurels   speak   of  valor 

For    each    brave    and    loyal    son. 


Peace,  peace,  may  Heaven  speed  thy  dawning. 


is 


TWILIGHT  MUSINGS. 


As  the  dusky  shades  of  evening,  slowly  clasp  the  waning 
light, 

Chipping  lingering  rays  of  sun  into  disks  of  starry  night; 

In  the  gloaming  I  am  sitting,  while  my  thoughts,  un- 
bidden, roam; 

And  the  song  they're  ever  singing  is  the  one  of  "Home, 
sweet   home". 

Now    the    twinkling    stars    are    shining,     in     the    far-off 

azure   blue, 
Shimmering    like    specks    of    crystal,    flecked    by    pearly 

drops  of  dew. 
Night    has    drawn    her    dusky    mantle    softly    o'er    day's 

fading  light; 
Memory    is    sadly    chanting,    "Where's     my     wandering 

boy  tonight?" 

Time's    cycles    revolving,    ever   hastening    along, 
Cast   prismatic   colors   o'er  this   old-fashioned   song; 
The   rhythm   comes   to   me   sweetly,   while   on  each   note 

I  dwell; 
The  song  is  "The  old  oaken  bucket,  that  hung  in  the  well." 

Memory's    chains    quickly    entwine    every    thought    with 

the  past, 
'Mid  strange  scenes  of  rare  beauty,  far  too  ethereal  to  last. 
While  strains  of  low  music,  wafted,  light  as   sea  foam, 
Echo  is  ever  repeating,  "Far  from  the  old  folks  at  home." 

While  the  gloaming  yet  lingers,  the  day-star  draws  near, 
It  is  sweet  tones  of  rare  music  which  now  fall  on  my  ear. 
Beautiful  phantoms  of  thought,  flitting  lighter  than  air, 
Gently  carol  the   song  of  "The   Old  Arm   Chair." 


Judge  not;  we  can  only  see  things  on  the  surface. 


GODS   GIFT  TO   ME. 


God's  life  is  mine,  He  gave  it  me; 
I  know  'tis  mine  eternally. 
But  when  he  calls,  I'll  lay  all  down, 
And    take    from    Him    a    starry    crown. 

God'?   breath  is  mine,  He  gave   it  me; 

And   thus   'tis   mine   eternally. 

But  at  His  call,  what  a  delight 

To  exchange  with   Him  for  robes   of  white. 


God's    strength   is    mine,   He   gave   it   me, 
And  now  'tis  mine  eternally. 
But  at  His  call  my  spirit  yields, 
Pearly   gates   are    open   to   flowery  fields. 

God's  love  is  mine,  He  gave  it  me, 
I  am  sure  'tis  mine,  eternally. 
But  when  He  calls  that  love  to  prove, 
There's  no  exchange,  for  love  is  God,  and 
God  is  love. 


We  gladly  leave  behind  the  old  and  press  forward 
to  the  new. 


LIFE'S   WEB. 


Time  just  gathers  up  the  threads 

Of   one  day; 
Weaving   strangely   mixed   up   webs 

On   her  way; 
Many   colors   intercrossed, 

Like   a   prism; 
Or,  as  flecks  of  winter  frost, 

'Ere    sun's    risen. 

Just    a    knotted,    tangled    skein, 

In  the   hand, 
Pressing   on   through   sun   and   rain, 

O'er  the   land. 
Soon   the   journey   comes   to   end, 

May   we    rest. 
Here   we   part   from   every   friend; 

Is   it   best? 


When   the   tangled    skein   unwinds, 

Will   we   know 
The   bright  and  fairest  path   to   find? 

Will   we   go 
When   the   final    call   we   hear? 

Let  us  come, 
Linger  not,  at  once  draw  near; 

We    have    reached    home. 


1 


I  care  not  for  wealth,  for  honor,  or  fame, 
Nor  a  high-sounding  title  prefixed  to  my  name. 

I  am  jolly  and  happy, 

Always  sing  as  I  go. 

There's   no   happier   man, 

I'm  the   man   with  the   hoe. 

A  match  for  all  wrestlers   in  country  or  town, 
As  champion  boxer,  I've  gained  no  renown. 
I'm    a    masterful    man, 
The    world    ought    to    know. 
First,   I   master   myself, 
Then,  I   master  the   hoe. 


There  is  much  that  is  true  and  noble  in  life; 

This    my    dominant    aim — never    meddle    with    strife. 

I'm    contented    and    happy, 

This    fact   you   may   know, 

The  hoe   never  shapes   me, 

For   I    shape   the    hoe. 


The   halos   of  glory   encircling   great  men, 

Grand   beacons   of  light — far  too  wise  for  my  pen. 

When   weary   with   toil, 

I  still  sing  as  I  go; 

For  I'm  king  among  men, 

While   I   hoe   my   own   row. 


Too  often  we  judge  each  other  harshly,  not  knowing 
whereof  we  speak. 


2t> 


THE   SHASTA   ROUTE. 


— 1 


Grand,    picturesque    scenery,    uncultured    and    wild; 
Art  is  awed  into  silence  by  Nature's  rough  child. 
Mt.   Shasta  alone  no  pencil  could  trace, 
With  its  phantom  appearance,  ever  changing  its  place. 
Miners  Peak,  or  "Black  Butte,"  stands  alone  to  the  sight, 
Like  a  monster  just  risen  from  the  darkness  of  night. 
Dark  pines  and  bright  flowers  fill  the  air  with  perfume, 
As  we  wind  out  and  in  on  the  railroad's  swift  loom. 
Through  valley  and  glen,  over  mountain  and  plain, 
We  catch  glimpses  of  beauty  from  the  fast-flying  train. 

As  we  whirl  round  a  curve,  in  the  fast  fading  light, 
Mount   Shasta  again   rises  up  to  the   sight. 
One  is  transfixed  with  rapture  the  sight  to  behold; 
Its   snow   crest   is   burnished   with    sunset's   bright   gold. 
In  admiration   we're   lost,   when   the   engine   bell   rings, 
And  we  halt  for  a  drink  from  the  cool  Shasta  Springs. 
Here   Nature   holds   revel   in  beauty  that's   wild — 
Just  a  slight  touch  of  art  to  refine  Nature's  child. 
Down  steep  mountain  sides,  many  cascades  are  dashing; 
Over  moss-covered  rocks,  in  the  sunlight  they're  flashing. 

In   grandeur   sublime    Nature    speaks   to   the    soul, 
Through    her   own   scenic    beauty,   past   artist's   control. 
Half    sleeping,    half   waking — almost    in    a    dream — 
Such    weird    enchantment   one    sometime    has   seen. 
There  are  sketches  of  beauty  from  the  skilled  hand  of  Art, 
Which  seem  of  this  life  to  claim  their  own  living  part; 
Still  there  is  a  touch  only  Nature  can  give, 
And    objects    inanimate   seem   to   breathe   and   to   live. 
Right   here   one   may  wonder   if   Nature   can   boast 
Of   more  rare   scenic  beauty   on   Pacific's   vast  coast. 

Written  aboard  the  train  on  a  trip  to  California  in  1897. 
Published  at  that  time. 


If  you  know  the  truth,  the  truth  shall  make  you  free. 


Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  man; 
Thus   o'er  Heavenly  courts   it  ran, 
Heralding  a  Saviour's  birth. 
Christ,  the  Lord,  has  come  to  earth. 


Born  of  earth,  he's  born  to  die; 
Gloom    of   night   obscures   the    sky; 
Heavenly   light   above   death's   prison; 
Bands    are    broken — lo!    He's    risen! 

Joy  on  earth  and  joy  in  Heaven, 
Voice  of  song   to  praise  is  given; 
Christ  has   risen   from   the  tomb, 
Light  divine  where  all  was  gloom. 

Let   the   Easter   anthems   ring 
Welcome   to    our   risen    King; 
Waft  the   notes   above   death's   prison, 
Song  of  victory — Christ  has  risen! 

Twine   the    Easter   lilies   fair, 
Garland  both  for  brow  and  hair, 
O'er  the  brow  once  damp  in  prison; 
Crown  of  lilies — Christ  has   risen! 


29 


Faith  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen. 


DAILY   PROBLEMS. 


ADDITION. 

Add   virtue   to   virtue,  add   justice  to  truth; 
Add  grace  to  old  age,  add  discretion  to  youth; 
Add  wisdom  and   knowledge  to  duties  well   done; 
As  a  final,  add  charity   'ere  setting  of  sun. 

SUBTRACTION. 

Subtract  all   the   wrong  from   thought,  word   or  deed; 
For    subtracting    remorse    there    will    never    be    need; 
For   many   this   problem    is    not   easy   to    solve, 
As  good  and  bad  deeds   round  each  other  revolve. 

MULTIPLICATION. 

Multiply  all  joys,  real  comfort  and   peace; 
Also   kindness   and    love — may   they   ever   increase. 
Multiply   kind   deeds   and    words — they    have    little   cost; 
Multiply  hopes  for  the  future,  may  no  hope  be  lost. 

DIVISION. 

Divide   cheerfulness,   courage,   and   lasting   good   will, 
That  all  may  share  fully,  each  heart  have  its  fill. 
Divide  charity  by  love;  divide  again  if  you  can; 
Love   will   be   the   remainder — Heaven's   infinite   plan. 


31 


1 


No  human  being  has  ever  had  sufficient  strength 
to  stand  entirely  alone. 


32 


Trust  in  the  Lord  when  troubles  assail; 
Trust  in  Him  more  if  earthly  friends  fail. 
Trust  in  the  morning  when  sunbeams  are  bright, 
Trust  Him  more  fully  in  shadows  of  night. 

Trust   in  the   Lord  when  storm  clouds   are  nigh, 
And  lightnings  are  flashing  athwart  the  dark  sky; 
While   menacing   thunders   unceasingly   roll, 
Daunting  the  heart  and  chilling  the  soul. 


Though  the  chalice  be  filled  with    bitterest  draught, 
Remember   the    Lord   the    same   cup   hath   quaffed. 
Then  trust  Him  by  faith  that's  born  from  above, 
To  temper  each  draught  with  His   marvelous   love. 


Though  man  be  merciless,  God  is  not. 


34 


SONG    OF   THE   RAIN. 


I  fill  all  the  streams,  the  rivulets  and  rills, 
I  fall  gently  on  valleys,  I  rush  down  the  hills; 
The  just  and  the  unjust  are  alike  unto  me. 
The  earth  is  my  playmate,  from  sea  unto  sea. 

Darkness  is   mine,  then   I  weep  in  large  tears, 
When  clouds  hang  like   palls   o'er  the  bright  spheres. 
I  fear  not  the  darkness,  but  hasten  my  fall, 
With  patter  so  gentle  that  is  music  to  all. 

When  weary  with  cares  you  seek  rest  at  night, 
You  draw  close  the  blinds  to  shut  out  the  light; 
I  come  gently  pattering  on  the  roof  overhead, 
To  lull  you  to  sleep  in  your  warm  cozy  bed. 

You're   drowsy — but   listen   till    dreamland   appears; 
I   whisper  good-night  through   my   fast  falling   tears. 
My  chalice  is  filled  with  raindrops  and  dew; 
I  let  them  fall  gently,  fair  dreamer,  for  you. 


35 


Your  knife  gets  an  edge  if  ground  against  stone. 


BUDS    AND    BLOSSOMS. 


Whence   come   the   buds   and   blossoms  ? 

Lovely  roses  in  full  bloom 
Greet  the  eye  with  rarest  beauty, 

Lade  the  air  with  rich  perfume. 
Where's  a  chalice  for  the  perfume 

Garnered  in  the  violet's   cell? 
Where  the  artist's   brush   which  tints  them? 

Whence    the    fragrance,    who   can   tell? 


37 


Into  a  perfect  and  confident  day,  no  counterfeit 
and  no  alloy. 


LIFE'S   TRIALS. 


Life's  joys  and  woes  alike  are  fleeting, 
Receive  the  joys  with  kindly  greeting; 
Dull   gloomy  thoughts   the   spirits   mar, 
And  dark  clouds  oft  the  home  life  jar. 

Cares   lead  astray  from   ambition's  goal, 
Chilling  like  frost  the  heart,  mind  and  soul; 
Life's   cares  and   duties   unceasing  revolve; 
To  untangle  their  network  we  often  resolve. 

Live  in  the  present;  let  the  past  be  the  past. 
If  you  dwell  on  the  pleasures — they  came  not  to  last. 
The  griefs  which  assailed  you  will  never  return; 
Leave  their  cremated  ashes   sealed  fast  in  the  urn. 


Let  bygones  be  bygones — draw  the  veil  not  aside. 
Never  look  backward  as  you  float  on  the  tide; 
Garner  your   strength,   the   stream   you   must   ford; 
The  task  will  prove  easy,  if  you  trust  in  the  Lord. 


If  you're  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up,  better 
walk  as  the  elevator  isn't  running. 


MOUNTAIN    MISTS. 


Grand   are   the   mountains   in   their   soft   mossy   green, 
Fleecy   clouds    on    each    summit,    like    feathery    sheen; 
In  the  mist  they  are  veiled,  from  base   unto  crest, 
As   beautiful   maiden   in  bridal   robes   dressed. 

Like    billowy   waves,    storm-tossed    into   foam; 
Or  hosts  of  lost  fairies  in  clouds  wandering  home. 
When  the  rain  has  ceased  falling,  the  low-hanging  clouds 
Are  as  wave  chasing  wave,  with  spirits  endowed. 

As   smoke  from  a  furnace,  changing   and   fleeting; 
Flying    hither   and    thither,   a    constant    repeating; 
Now  high  on  each  crest,  they  are  white  as  the  snow; 
Then  dissolve  into  mist,  at  the  base  far  below. 


Fleecy  and  foamy,  they  float  lighter  than  air; 
Shimmering   and   dancing,  now   here   and  now   there. 
They  cloud-cap  the   mountains   in   billowy  foam, 
They    garnish    each    peak    with    a    cloud-fairy's    home. 


1 


In  every  trouble  He  doth  share;  rest  in  peace 
the  Lord  will  care. 


H*3S= 


OUR   FLAG. 


Our  nation's  flag,  in  this  we  glory, 
And   proudly  tell   the   old,   old   story, 
Of  how  our  heroes   fought  and  bled, 
As  through  the  snow  their  foot-prints  led. 

All  hail!  All  hail!  to  the  red,  white  and  blue, 

So  dearly  bought  by  lives  brave  and  true. 

Each  stripe  is  the  life  blood  of  some  one  most  dear; 

Each  star  is  the  emblem  of  a  crystallized  tear. 

We  love  every  stripe;  we  love  every  star; 
Mute  reminders   of  trials   and  triumphs   of  war. 
Our  glorious   flag,  wherever  unfurled, 
Speaks  of  union  and  freedom  all  over  the  world. 


43 


Success  is  a  wonderful  "succeeder. " 


Angelic  bells  are  joyfully  ringing, 
Seraphic  tones   in  glorified  singing, 

"Peace   on   earth,  good  will   to   man." 
Thus   o'er   Heavenly   courts   it   ran. 

Shepherds   guarding  flocks  at  night, 
Startled  by   such  wondrous  light, 

Forget  awhile   their  watchful   care, 
As   light  and  song  float  on  the  air. 

Heavenly  child  now  born  of  earth, 
Angel    songs   proclaim    His    birth. 

"Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  man," 
Thus    the    heavenly    chorus    sang. 

Hear  the   seraph  voices   sing, 

"Welcome   to   the    new   born   king." 

Voice  and  harp — angelic   plan — 

"Peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  man." 


45 


Let  all  who  are  sad  take  heart  again,  we  are  not  alone 
in  hours  of  pain. 


46 


HOOD   RIVER. 


I 


Picturesque   scenery   both   weird   and   wild, 
Not  a  touch  of  man's  hand  to  train  Nature's  rough  child. 
The  river's  dark  green  flecked  by  white  caps  of  foam, 
Seems  enchanting  enough  for  a  mermaid's  own  home. 

Grand    mountains    like    sentinels    protecting    the    river, 
Which    glides    restlessly    onward    forever    and    ever, 
Constantly   changing   and   flashing   in   color   and   light, 
As   beautiful    as    morning,   as    enchanting   as   night. 

Snow-crested    Mt.    Adams    in    the    distance    is    seen, 
Like  a  speck  of  white  beauty  'gainst  a  background  of  green. 
Mount  Hood,  in  its  grandeur,  is  eclipsed  from  the  view 
By   spurs   less   imposing   near  the   sky's   lovely   blue. 

Distant    tinkling    of    bells    now   falls    on   the    ear, 
Wafted  by  zephyr's  low  music  through  a  grove  that  is  near. 
Each   tree   softly   whispers   of   beauty   around, 
Falling  as  mute  benedictions  from  its  leaves  to  the  ground. 

Down  a  steep  mountain  side  there's  a  cataract  dashing; 
Its  flecks  of  white  foam   in  the  sunlight  are   flashing; 
Hurrying    and    rushing    it    leaps    to    the    base, 
To  dash  back  its  spray  'gainst  the  mountain's  rough  face. 

There   is   beauty   entrancing,   both   gentle   and   wild, 
Like   a   glimpse   of   refinement   in   an   uncultured   child. 
The    effect    at    once    charms,    the    attention    must    hold, 
Like    Nature's    rough    diamonds    in   frame-work    of   gold. 

Written  at  Hood  River.  Oregon,  1897. 


To  be  conscious  that  you  are  ignorant  is  a 
great  step  to  knowledge. 


4o 


INFLUENCE. 


Forces   unseen  through  the  channels   of  life — 
With   shadows   and   sunshine   equally  rife — 

We    feel   their    strong    power 

O'er   our  lives   every   hour. 

We're    swayed    by    their    force, 

Yet    change    not    our    course. 

Entangled   by  meshes   unseen   in  the  web, 

In   haste   to   untangle   we    draw   the   wrong   thread. 

We  understand  not  the   laws; 

Is    it    effect    without    cause? 

Weaving   chains    around    life, 

While    we're    victims    of    strife. 

The    influence    around    us    is    not   what   we    seek; 
We   wrench  at  the  chains,  but  find  we   are  weak. 

There   are   forces   and    laws, 

Each    controlled    by    a    cause. 

As    life's    mandates    are    laid, 

Thus    they    must    be    obeyed. 


4o 


BEND  NOT  THE  TWIG. 


As  the  twig  is  bent  the  tree's  inclined. 
There're  ruling  passions   in  young  minds, 
Which  mould  and   shape  the  coming  man. 
Power  is  lost  to  change  this  plan. 

A  tiny  twig  is  crushed  to  earth; 
To  beauty  lost,  and  lost  to  worth. 
For  by  the  stroke,  the  twig  is  bent, 
Till  through  the  tree  its  form  is  lent. 

Deep  in  the  earth  the  strong  roots  wind, 
Thus  in  the  trunk  some  life  we  find; 
The  twig  was  bent  long  years  gone  by, 
A   shapeless   tree   now   greets   the   eye. 

Wrong   influence  o'er  a   pliant  mind, 
Develops  man  to  vice  inclined. 
Be  wise  and  guard  the  young  with  care, 
Shield  youthful  mind  from    tempter's    snare. 


51 


If  you  feel  the  whole  world  is  against  you,  get  in  line; 
the  world  might  be  right  about  it. 


SEND  ME. 


Here  am  I!       Send  me.      Let  this  be  the  watchword  from 

sea  unto  sea. 
This  call  is  to  you;  the  same  call  is  to  me. 
The  world   is  now  struggling   in  turmoil   and   pain, 
Tyranny    to    vanquish    and    right    to    maintain. 


I  hear  my  country's  call  and  answer  prompt  and  free; 
I've  given  all  but  just  myself,  now  here  am  I,  send  me. 
Iniquity  and  crime  are  to  be  expelled  from  the  world, 
And  down  to  the  dust  every  tyrant  be  hurled. 

Listen!    I  hear  another  quick  cry,  "Send   me," 
I  am  ready  for  action,  to  conquer  or  die. 
The   carnage   of   war   must   forever   cease; 
O'er   the   whole   world   then   will    brood   the    white    dove 
of  peace. 


A    TRIP    THROUGH    THE    MOUNTAINS. 


Up  the  high  mountains  the   engine   is  climbing; 

Round  and  around  its  course  now  seems  to  wind; 
Reaching  near  and  more  near  the  far  away  summit; 
To  the  view,  there  appears  many  tracks  left  behind. 

Small  crystal  streams  here  and  there  dashing  wildly, 
Flashing  like   gems   down  the   steep  mountain   side; 

Far  off  in  the   sunlight  they're   glittering  above  us, 
Now  foaming  below  like  the   deep   ocean  tide. 

Many    bridges    of   network    and    slight-looking    trestles, 

Span  weird  chasms,  both  dark  and  high; 
Snow-capped   mountains   on   all   sides   surround   us, 
In    grandeur    and    beauty,   they    rest   near    the    sky. 

Dark  forests   of  pines,  with  bright  blooming  flowers, 
On    this    side    and    that — far    above,    way    below — 

Thousands  of  feet  above  the  sea  level; 

'Tis  a  scene  of  wild  beauty,  midst  sunshine  and  snow. 


Grandeur   and    beauty    and    danger   combining 

The  wonders  of  nature  and  man's   art  in  one. 
We  ne'er  think  of  danger  that  here  may  surround  us, 
But  drink  in  the  beauty,  'neath  snowflakes  and  sun. 


CO      I      I        CO 


Don't  worry  when  you  stumble,  a  worm  is  the  only  thing 
that  can't  fall  down. 


LIFE'S    PILGRIMAGE. 


Two  pilgrims  on  the  voyage  of  life  just  outside  the  portals, 
Toiling  onward  in  the  strife,  like  all  earthly  mortals; 
Storms  have  risen  o'er  their  pathway  excluding  all  the  light; 
Sable  clouds  hang  low  at  noontide,  turning  day  to  night. 

They  struggle  bravely  onward,  heavy  burdens  they  must  bear; 
While  the  fiery  bolts  of  heaven,  clashing,  rend  the  murky  air. 
The  heart  throbs  almost  cease,  the  soul  grows  faint  with  dread ; 
As  wave  on  wave  of  anguish  rolls  o'er  each  drooping  head. 

The  happiness  of  earth  they've  sought  and  striven  for  earthly 

joy. 
Earth's  pleasures  proved  but  phantoms,  her  gold  was  but  alloy. 
Now  'mid  storms  and  clouds  of  darkness,  their  cry  will  never 

cease, 
Till  above  the  weary,  fainting  soul  expands  the  bow  of  peace. 

They  catch  a  glimpse  of  one  bright  star  far  gleaming  through 

the  night, 
Which  turns  the  darkness  into  day  and  glorifies  the  light. 
While  all  the  sorrow  and  the  pain,  their  hearts  and  lives  did 

fill, 
Is  banished  quickly  by  the  voice  which  whispered,   "Peace, 

be  still."    . 

The  tempest  now  has  ceased  to  rage    around   the   pilgrim's 

way; 
The  star  of  hope,  with  brilliant  rays,  turns  darkness  into  day; 
The  bow  of  promise  spans  the  sky  'mid  cheering   beams   of 

light; 
To  guide  the  pilgrims  to  their  home,  and   banish    shades   of 

night. 


I  have  journeyed   far  east,   I   have   journeyed   far  west, 
Mid   scenes    of   rare   beauty   by   Nature   possessed. 
Cities    made    very    attractive    from    architect's    plan — 
Still    there's    nothing    more    charming     than     the    Falls 
of   Spokane. 

Towns   flanked  by  mountains   with   crests  near  the   sky, 
Where  the  tallest  of  buildings  would  never  seem   high; 
O'er   the    desert-like    plains,    cities    rise    without    plan, 
But  for  natural   beauty,   take   the   Falls   of   Spokane. 

So    majestically    falling,    all    sparkling    and    bright, 
Like    moulten    glass    pouring    through    crystaline    light; 
Gathering  prismatic  colors  from  the  rainbow's  near  span, 
There's  weird  enchantment  about  the  Falls  of  Spokane. 

You  may  journey  far  east,   you  may  journey  far  west, 
You'll  find  scenes  of  beauty,  but  you'll  like  this  the  best. 
Nature's  attractions  are  many,  all  pleasing  to  man, 
But  none  charm  the  beholder  like  the  Falls  of  Spokane. 


In  my  pleasure  trips  east,  or  my  business  trips  west, 
As  I  recall   scenic  beauty,  which   I  really  like   best, 
There   is   nothing   in   scenery   nor   in   architect's   plan, 
Which  will  cling  to  my  memory  like  the  Falls  of  Spokane. 


Don't  look  for  windfalls— the  best  apples  stay 
on  the  trees  and  have  to  be  picked. 


LIFE'S  PATHWAY. 


There  is  something  in  life's  battle  not  unlike  a  stormy  day; 
Clouds   and   sunshine,  thunders   rattle,   interchanging   on 

life's   way. 
Our  morning  sun  has  reached  its  zenith,  flecked  by  clouds, 

but  not  eclipsed; 
Still   its   rays    grow   faint   and   fainter,   till   behind   dark 

clouds  it  slips. 

Our  noon   of  life  is  night  of  darkness,  lightnings   flash 

and  thunders   roll, 
Thrilling   every  nerve   with   anguish,  bringing   terror   to 

the   soul. 
Clouds  around  our  pathway  hover,  gleams  of  light  flash 

through   the   rifts, 
Bringing    to    us    thoughts    of    heaven,     hopes    of    future 

happiness. 


Thus   in   life   we're   oft  unconsious   of   great   danger   till 

it's  past; 
Then   we   wonder  how   it   happened   that  the   danger   did 

not  last. 
Clouds     and     sunshine     intermingling,    lightnings    flash, 

thunders  roll; 
Keep  us  ever  from  all  danger,  is  the  language  of  the  soul. 


" 


bi 


Out  of  conflict  into  a  righteous  and  permanent  peace. 


Give   glory  to   God  in  worshipful  awe; 

In   His   mercy   and  justice   there   is   no   earthly   flaw, 

As    righteous    judgments    are    His    own    Divine    law. 


Rejoice!    Victory   is    ours,    most    heroically   won; 
While   God   is   the   author   of  all  noble   deeds   done; 
Through  His  strength  and  Wisdom  all  laurels  were  won. 


63 


PRICES. 


Miscellaneous  Poems  are  on  sale  at  the   following 
prices: 

Single  copy 50  cents. 

Lots  of  ten  to  twenty-five,  per  copy  28  cents. 

Shipping  prepaid. 


On  the  sale  of  this  little  book  depends  the  accomplish- 
ment of  my  heart's  desire  to  cast  into  the  treasury  "the 
widow's  mite"  to  aid  in  the  final  establishment  of  peace, 
justice  and  freedom  thruout  the  entire  world.  "That  war 
may  be  no  more." 

Address:  MRS.  L.  G.  DAY, 

RUTLAND,  ILL. 


RECORD    PRINT.      RUTLAND.    ILL 


, 


i  ! 


